Reflections

I have noticed that many drivers insist on driving at 40 mph. Why is this, I wonder. Many’s the time I have followed a driver on a single lane, 60mph road, and the needle on the speedometer never goes above or drops below 40. Why 40? Why not 36 or 45? At least that would provide a little variety.But the thing that really annoys me about these drivers is when, having held you up for the last 5 miles, they enter a 30mph zone, and continue driving at 40!

In fact 40mph seems to be their speed, and they won’t change it for road conditions, weather conditions, speed limits, fire, flood, acts of God or the end of the universe. Whether they are driving on a country lane, an urban freeway, a motorway or a garage forecourt, they will stick to 40 mph, come what may.

May their valves become gummy.

I seem to use these blogs for nothing but moaning about things, but it must be said, it seems an ideal format for complaining. So let me proceed without delay.Why is it that people insist on pressing buttons, when the button quite clearly indicates that it has already been pressed? You see it at pedestrian traffic lights, where the word WAIT will be displayed in 300-point type, and illuminated into the bargain, but still they have to press the button again, just to make sure.You see it also in lifts, where, for example, the 3^rd floor button will be illuminated and proclaiming to the world: “IT’S OK – YOU DON’T HAVE TO PRESS ME – I HAVE ALREADY BEEN PRESSED”. And still, still, they have to press it.

Why?

I wish people were more sceptical about the things that matter.

 

 

A couple of days ago I received an unexpected message from someone in my Yahoo Messenger address book.  They told me I should go to a URL and look at a Geocities site.  I was there as the message was posted, and saw the person log in, the message appear and the person log out immediately.

Foolishly (it was early in the morning, and I have man-flu) I went to the site, and discovered what seemed to be a genuine Yahoo page telling me the site was down.

That should have been an end of it.  But then I got a message this morning from someone else in Yahoo which was something like *scratches head*.  That gave me a clue that something was up.  I sent out a warning to everybody in my address book, and apart from giving me the opportunity of having six simultaneous conversations, this also demonstrated that the message had just gone out to these people under my name.

I have done a virus scan and a Spybot check, which have found nothing untoward, apart from a couple of files flagged as ‘suspicious’ in my email attachments.

What I find interesting is that I could only have been infected in one of two ways.  (a) Either the web site, which seemed to be a genuine Yahoo 404 page, unloaded some malevolent coding onto my computer, or (b) Just by reading the Yahoo message I was infected.

Both of those alternatives are rather disturbing.  Had the virus been a destructive one, I could now be looking at the wreck of my computer. 

One hopes that Yahoo get their collective fingers out, very quickly indeed, and sort this problem out.  Much as I would hate to lose Yahoo Messenger, it would be foolish to use it if it were not safe.  And that seems to be the case at the moment.

Oh yes, the site in question is: 

h ttp://w ww.geocities.com/one_n_only_becky69/

 Avoid it.  

Another Meldrewish posting about grammar, I’m afraid.  I have already spoken about the way the word ‘plus’ is incorrectly used these days, to mean ‘also’.  The following is a particularly good example, ironically from PlusNet:  “With our new Evenings & Weekends product you pay us for line rental, plus all your evening and weekend calls to regular UK landlines are included.” 

This is a particularly good example, because the word ‘plus’ is used in a way to  express the opposite of its actual meaning.  If the words ‘are included’ were in fact not included, the sentence would mean that you also pay for your evening and weekend calls, plus it would also be grammatically correct. 

Forgive me, I couldn’t resist.